


Beginning

by truth-be-told-im-lying (keeperofthefour)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Implied safe sex, Post-Canon Fix-It, Sex, Two fools in love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, i need him to be happy, my love for jihyun, post V's after ending, the after ending he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofthefour/pseuds/truth-be-told-im-lying
Summary: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything ...ahem...adult. I’m trying a little something different with this one, so tell me if you like it (if you please). This is also sort of an extended scene for my Zine contribution (which has not yet been released for public view, but I’ve been dreaming of this scenario since Jihyun hurt me so in the new AE). I need to envision him happy, and here’s my way of coping.
Relationships: V | Kim Jihyun/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on tumblr @truth-be-told-im-lying!

The first thing he notices is that she tastes like strawberries. 

Her lips are soft and a little sticky and slightly cool, a little bit damp from the fruit they had been sharing just moments before they’d locked eyes and decided that it was time. When he lifts berry-stained fingers to cradle her cheek, he knocks over the wine glass perched between them on the wooden porch with the chipped paint, and the dregs of it trickle out. She jumps at the sound and recoils; Jihyun chases her for a moment– eyes half lidded and still invested in the kiss– before pulling back to inspect the damage. They giggle then, breathy and exhilarated, their foreheads pressed together. He thumbs over her bottom lip and she tilts her face into his again, this time with a bit more purpose.

It isn’t long until they find their way back through the house. First, colliding with the screen door, then with the boxes filled with their belongings stacked throughout the entryway. He’s peeling off his sweater, she’s fumbling with his belt buckle. They’re stuck together in a passionate, clumsy dance of two people who have been waiting over two years to be together. 

Despite the passage of so much time, they still waited for this moment. It never quite felt right before. Perhaps it was because they were living in Jihyun’s old house until now– the one he had shared with Rika, the one where so many sorry memories lingered in quiet corners and darkened hallways. Where ghosts of the past haunted his dreams, and he was never fully able to give himself over to someone else. 

There had been reserved kisses on the cheek, the forehead, upon the eyes. Lingering embraces that neither of them wished to escape from, but both were too shy to express the need that had been building since their meeting at the airport when she came to pick him and Saeran up from their flight home. They held hands, they whispered words of affection– but never  _ that  _ word. They had written it countless times in their letters, of course. But to say it aloud held a different sort of weight, a more insistent gravity that neither of them wanted to be the first to test.

Tonight, though, as they sat barefoot and exhausted on the front porch of their new home, sharing a bottle of wine Jumin had sent as a housewarming gift, she blurted it out, unthinking, after he’d made her laugh about something that happened earlier that day.

“Oh Jihyun, I love you!” she’d proclaimed as her laughter died down and she bumped his shoulder with her own, sloshing the wine in her glass dangerously close to the rim. He laughed too ,then there was a pause in which she widened her eyes and covered her mouth with her palm while her cheeks flamed with the realization of what she had done, what she had finally said.

She hadn’t wanted to be first. She didn’t want it to hurt when he didn’t say it back.

“I love you, too.” His response was not what she had been expecting. Oh, she  _ wanted  _ him to say it, but was deeply afraid that he’d never be able to proclaim it aloud. She knew his damage. She was aware of his insecurities, his demons, his inability to ever put himself first in any relationship he’d ever been party to. She knew that when he said it aloud, it would mean that he had finally overcome the fear that he would be rejected, the fear of the absolute uncharted territory of finally handing his heart over to someone who wasn’t  _ Rika.  _

She had raised her brow. “Jihyun, you’re not just saying it because– “

He shook his head, adamant as he squeezed her fingers with his own.  _ “I. Love. You.” _

The strawberry kiss, the spilled wine, her bruised hip, and his stubbed toe then, were the precursors to where they stood now in the bedroom where nothing but a mattress and more boxes of their belongings surrounded them. His kisses on her shoulder now are feather-light as she trails her fingertips along the lithe plane of his bare back; his erection nudges the softness of her belly when he inches closer to slip an arm around her waist.

Moonlight spills in through the window where no curtain has yet been hung, and the wet path of his kisses shine on her skin when he lowers her to the mattress and captures a nipple in his mouth with a sharp intake of breath through his nose.

She is a stuttering mess when he strokes the insides of her thighs, and she opens herself to him, lifting her hips to take the length of his fingers as deep as he can push them while he watches, fascinated with the perfect, round shape of her mouth and the furrow of her brow. When she closes her eyes, he begs her to  _ please, keep them open,  _ and she obliges, watching him through her haze of lust as he works his fingers against her clit. In the stillness, she can almost hear his heart beating just as erratically as her own; it joins with the wet sound of her arousal and their equally ragged breathing to create a symphony only the two of them know how to write. 

It’s more perfect than she could have ever imagined when he aligns himself with her entrance and she arches forward and upward to invite him in. There’s a moment where they both hold their breath, then she links her ankles at the base of his spine and pulls him close for another kiss. 

Jihyun tries to go slow, to savor the sensation of her body as it responds to every stroke of his cock against her folds, each brush of fingers over her skin or his tongue tangled with hers. He wants this moment to last forever, but she’s already a trembling mess beneath him and she’s struggling to keep her heels dug in to maintain her control. He cups her knees and opens her further, pressing them into the mattress so that she lays almost perfectly flat, folded out for him to finish as she cries out his name on a gasp of ecstasy. She comes undone, clinging to his shoulders for dear life, tears rolling from her eyes and tickling her ears. His own tears drip from his eyes and mingle with hers and he covers her completely once he has come, cradling her head in his hands as his face is buried in her neck.

He grows soft inside her and unsheaths slowly with a gasp before shifting to her side. She burrows herself against his chest and inhales his scent, traces fingers along the sheen of sweat on his skin. She thinks of how they must look– so desperate for one another that they barely had time to put their house together. So in love that they couldn’t wait to unpack the boxes of belongings or properly make the bed or even have the foresight to plug in a lamp before nightfall

Jihyun strokes her hair and thinks only of her. How she has taught him what the word love truly means. Not just the act of intimacy they’ve just performed– that he now realizes he wants to experience again and again with her and only her for the rest of his life– but the pure acceptance of himself she has taught him. The fact that he can be with her, and he can be him _ self,  _ and it’s  _ okay.  _ She won’t turn on him. She won’t let him be haunted by his darkness, or Rika’s, or that of any of his past mistakes or hers. 

It’s been a long road. But they’re riding together now. 

And tomorrow they’ll finish unpacking. 

Tonight, there is love to be made.

  
  



End file.
